


Popcorn and Haydust

by wunderlichkind



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Queerlander, Rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-19 16:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wunderlichkind/pseuds/wunderlichkind
Summary: It's the start of summer vacation when the circus comes to Broch Mordha. It is a bit of a sensation in such a small village and occupies all its young people - especially Ian Fraser Murray, who's fascination is more with a certain artiste than the actual show.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short multipart story. English is not my native language and it is un-betaed, so please be kind. Any constructive feedback is much appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

The small circus had been coming to Broch Mordha every second year for as long as Ian could remember. When he was younger, his mother used to take him and his siblings to see the show and he would marvel at the artistes, the jugglers and the exotic animals they brought along. He would fight over the popcorn with Michael and Janet and they would walk home with sticky hands and mouths from feasting on ice cream and cotton candy, starry eyed for the rest of the day.  
Now that half his siblings are already adults, what with Jamie and his wife expecting their own first child, the times of Jenny Fraser taking her children on outings has long since gone and passed.   
Whenever Ian is not at school, he is either helping his father and uncle on the farm or hanging about with his friends the way teenagers hang out all over the world; searching for a place where adult eyes can’t reach them, making their first tentative attempts at romance, basking in friendship and being careless.  
It’s the last day of the school year when the circus arrives and sets up camp on the big empty field at the edge of town and when Ian senior and Uncle Jamie tell Ian to get lost and enjoy the beginning of summer with his friends he feels lighter and more at ease than he has in months. He lets the warm evening sun soak his skin in a golden glow and heat and lets it lift him out of this awkward teenage body right into carelessness and peacefulness.   
As it goes with groups of teenage boys in small villages, everyone is curious as to what is going on at the circus and they are sitting on the edge of the field, watching the busy proceedings. There’s a rumour being passed around about some very bendy girl who’s apparently been part of the ensemble two years ago and the boys are lazily speculating about the advantages of such a talent while the trailers on the fields slowly become temporary homes and the center of the hustle and bustle starts looking more and more like big red and blue tent.  
Someone has managed to sneak some beers out his parents’ fridge and Ian lies spread out on the warm grass, watches his friends passing around the stolen bottles and he recognizes the same elation he’s feeling in their flushed and grinning faces. Summer has truly started.

The sun starts to set and the heat of the day leaves the tiniest bit of room for a cool evening breeze when Alec dares Kenny to go ask the group of young people gathered under one of the trailer’s sunroof to join them in building a bonfire on the shore of the local creek.   
Kenny lights up bright red when the others lively discuss whether that ginger girl in their middle might actually be the infamous bendy artiste they’ve remembered earlier but being a true Scot, he just squares his shoulders and marches off across the dried out grass, ignoring the catcalls and whistling following him.  
A few minutes later their group is faced with five strangers – three guys, two girls – and a very triumphant Kenny.  
On the way to the creek, Ian learns that the girls are called Geneva and Geillis and that they are definitely a handful and most probably more drama than he can bear. He lets himself fall back and finds himself next to one of the circus lads.   
The boy is slender with narrow shoulders but his arms and legs are defined, the muscles of a well-trained artiste clearly visible. His darkbrown hair falls to his tan shoulders in slight waves and Ian remembers to stop staring then and nods in greeting.   
„Hi. Ian“, he offers and the other grins.  
„Fergus“, he introduces himself and Ian thinks he detects a bit of an accent, which is curious considering the very Scottish name.

They build a bonfire as high as Lallybroch’s chicken coop and it illuminates their flushed faces with it’s warm light and the crackling of the flames whispers reckless ideas into their ears.   
They have no more beer but there’s a bottle of wine being passed around now and Ian feels comfortably buzzed. He’s still contemplating Fergus’ accent – French, like he’s now figured out – when Marsali comes up with the idea to play _Truth or Dare_.   
Ian likes Marsali, he really does. She’s practically a sister to him what with them having been in school together forever and his uncle Jamie basically being her stepfather (don’t ask – it’s complicated). But in that moment, she’s just like every other teenage girl and Ian wants to grab her and shake her for it. _Truth or Dare_. God, how he hates that game.  
While he loves spending time with his friends and enjoys their good-natured bantering, he keeps quiet a lot of the time. Sharing just really isn’t his thing, especially considering that most of the time he isn’t even sure of his own feelings himself. He shifts away from the fire a little, trying to hide his face in the shadows and listens to Geneva daring Kenny to skinny dip into the creek.  
Well, this is gonna be great, he thinks.  
By some miracle, he gets spared for nearly half an hour and he relaxes a bit, watching the dares and questions being passed around with the wine. He watches Marsali kiss Alec and Geillis bend around Niall who’s face burns as brightly as the fire in consequence. He listens to Fergus explaining his accent (he really is French, the name is just a stage name that stuck) and to Andriw, another one of the circus boys, telling a terribly embarrassing story in broken English.   
It’s Geneva’s turn again then, and she chooses truth, telling them how she’d lost her virginity at 14 to one of the (much older) artistes at her father’s circus. She seems proud of it, too but the story feels uncomfortable somehow and Ian must’ve moved or made a sound for she turns around to him.  
„You, in the shadows. What’s your name?“, she demands.  
To his surprise, it’s Fergus who answers her as he steels his shoulders, resolving to his faith.  
He decides on truth when Geneva asks him, remembering Kenny having to strip buck naked and not wanting to be at her mercy in that way.  
„Which of the girls here do you fancy the most, Ian?“, she asks and it’s clear she has him figured out by her expression, knows how shy he is and how embarrassed he gets.  
Ian blushes fiercely and considers the question for a moment. He lets his eyes wander over the girls; Marsali and Sophie, Geneva and Geillis and Alec’s sister Donna.  
Truth, he thinks. And then he answers honestly.  
„I don’t, really“, he shrugs and he knows his face is bright red still but he also feels bold and he likes how he stunned Geneva into silence. Take that, you nosey tramp.


	2. Chapter 2

He walks home through the fields with Marsali very late at night. Broch Mordha is peaceful, quiet. All you can hear is the sound of the crickets in the high grass and in the far distance the burbling of the little creek. It doesn’t match Ian’s feelings at all. His insides feel giddy, exhilarated and terribly anxious at the same time. He wants to say something but doesn’t know what and he’s incredibly relieved when Marsali starts giggling.  
„Man, Ian, ye sure dropped the bomb tonight“, she laughs and some of the tightly coiled up ball of tension releases when he falls in with her laughter.  
„Did ye see Geneva’s face? She sure didna expect this.“  
„Serves her right“, Ian murmurs under his breath and then he stops walking and turns around to face his friend.  
„Marsali. Do ye think...“ He pauses, unsure how to phrase his worries. „Do ye think the others...? They’ll be okay with this?“  
She chuckles and touches his arm, her warm palm lingering.   
„Ian, ye’ve known them forever and they’ve known you. I’m not even sure they were all that surprised tonight. I know I wasna. They’re assholes but they’re your assholes.“  
He laughs again, a relieved shaky sound escaping him. They slowly start walking again and Marsali takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.  
„I hope ye’re right, M, because if ye’re not I’m blaming you. Whatever possessed you to suggest that god-awful game?!“, he teases her and bumps her shoulder with his own.  
„Did ye see the muscles on that circus lad?! I was hoping for some action and all I got was a wet snog with Alec.“ She shudders theatrically next to him and Ian answers with a flat giggle, his thoughts stuck on „the muscles of that circus guy“. Fergus’ toned arms and strong hands flash before his eyes and he wonders for a second...  
„Which circus guy?“, he asks impulsively and he hears his own voice crack and finishes the question in a kind of squeak. Fuck puberty, he thinks, mortified and hopes the darkness hides his blush.  
„Andrew’s his name, I think“, Marsali answers, sounding a little preoccupied herself.   
„Andriw“, Ian corrects her relieved. Relieved she didn’t seem to catch that thing his voice did but mostly relieved she isn’t talking about Fergus.  
„God, ye’re pathetic“, he mutters under his breath, annoyed with himself for being such a sappy idiot. He usually isn’t one for quick crushes or pining. Sure, he’d appreciated a few of their schoolmates bodies from afar before but that had more to do with hormones than feelings.   
„Did ye say something?“, Marsali asks, distracted, her face now badly lit from the motion detecting light over her front door.  
„Nothing. Good night, M“, Ian hugs her tight and kisses her cheek.  
„Good night, Ian. It’ll be alright, ye’ll see.“ She smiles at him and he turns to walk the last bit of the way home, mirroring her smile. He only takes three steps before she quietly calls after him.  
„Hey, Ian! Let’s go see the show tomorrow, aye?“  
Why not, he thinks, and tries to convince himself that it isn’t just because he really, really wants to know what Fergus uses his muscles for.

They take Kenny because Marsali thinks it’ll be hilarious to watch him sweat and squirm through Geillis’ number and it turns out she was right on two accounts; Kenny doesn’t treat Ian any differently and it _is_ hilarious. Andriw does a hand-on-hand number with a young woman they don’t know and they have to repeat to Marsali that „no, they didna look like a couple“ and „no, we don’t actually ken for sure“ several times before she shuts up.   
There’s horses and a funny bit with chickens and goats, there’s a really bad clown and an amazing troop combining the trapezes with a giant trampoline and then, finally, there’s Fergus.  
He’s alone in the ring, crouching down, a single spotlight on him and he begins moving when the music starts up – a slow, sweet, melancholy tune. The light gets brighter and it’s only now that you can see the tight rope spanning through the tent, high up, over the heads of the audience.   
Ian feels as tightly strung as the rope and he physically notices his muscles vibrating when Fergus starts making the first tentative steps. He thinks Marsali might be saying something but he can’t bring himself to focus on anything but Fergus, his sure and graceful movements, the way he balances, precariously, breathtakingly, like he’s at home in the air, like he could just raise his arms and lift off into the sky.   
He holds his breath whenever Fergus jumps or twirls or swings himself around the rope and when Fergus bows to the audience, Ian feels dizzy and lightheaded and it takes him a moment to remember to clap.

Uncle Jamie makes Ian help fixing the fence on Lallybroch’s southend later that afternoon. It’s hot and Ian is incredibly distracted – he spends more time looking for nails he’s dropped in the high grass than actually helping his uncle and he even hits himself with the hammer twice so he’s very relieved when Jamie suggests they take a break in the shade of the big oak by the mill and share a bottle of water.   
„What are ye mulling over, lad?“, he poses the dreaded question and Ian hides his face, unsure what to say. He’s pretty confident his family will support him no matter what. He thinks, his mother is suspecting something already but he hasn’t brought up the courage to actually tell any of them that he’s gay. He’s barely brought up the courage to admit it to himself. But Ian also knows that he could never lie to Jamie, the man always notices somehow.  
„Marsali and I’ve been to the circus today, ye ken?“, he starts and Jamie utters a non-commital „mmph“, waiting for Ian to go on.  
„There’s... someone I’m kinda interested in.“  
Jamie chuckles. „Weel, I figured it might be something like that. So. Have ye talked to the lass yet?“  
Ian decides to take the leap. He’s done it with his friends after all and that went well enough.  
„I have. Talked to him.“  
It’s hard not to look away but Ian wants to see his uncle’s reaction. Jamie’s eyebrows lift in momentary surprise and he musters his nephew for a moment, then he smiles.  
„Thank ye for yer trust, son“, and lies his hand on Ian’s shoulder, warm and heavy and gloriously reassuring and Ian breathes and lets his head fall back against the tree trunk.   
„So. Tell me about him“, Jamie inquires and they forget about fixing the fence altogether for a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s so late that most of the kids have already gone home. The bonfire has burned down to a steady glow. Marsali is laying the moves on Andriw on the other side of it and Ian is acutely aware of the presence to his left – Fergus, lying in the grass, his long legs stretched out, watching the night sky. To his right, Alec and Donna are packing up their things to leave and Ian startles when Fergus’ quiet voice interrupts their goodbyes.   
„So. You’ve got some balls, _mon ami_ “, he says and chuckles, nearly inaudible through the mating calls of the frogs.  
„I don’t think I remember the last time anyone’s managed to shut Geneva up so thoroughly.“  
Ian grins and feels weirdly proud.   
„Thank ye“, he offers and they fall silent again.  
„How did your friends react?“, Fergus asks after a while and Ian shrugs.   
„Seems like most of them already suspected it. They dinna make a big deal at least.“  
„Good. I’m glad for you.“  
Silence again and Ian wants the conversation to continue so desparately, he’s internally debating whether or not to comment on Fergus’ performance in the show this afternoon and he nearly misses the low murmur coming from his left.  
„I wasn’t so lucky, you know.“  
It takes Ian embarrassingly long to grasp the meaning behind the words. When his brain finally comes around to processing, his heart skips a beat and the adrenaline rush he gets nearly makes him jump on his feet. Fucking hell. He might actually have a shot here.  
He remembers to answer then: „I... I’m sorry. Do ye wanna talk about what happened?“  
Fergus is looking at him, eyes shining with a piercing, curious look in the low light of the fire and Ian has to look away, cursing himself for being such an insensitive oaf.  
„Let’s just say, what happened has a lot to do with why I joined the circus“, Fergus finally answers and Ian can’t help himself. He reaches out and softly squeezes Fergus’ hand, his courage leaving him right away, making him end the touch way too soon.  
„When did you...“, Ian starts but trails off, unsure how to end the question. It turns out he doesn’t have to. Fergus answers both his questions at once.  
„Oh I’ve known since I was a kid, really but I’ve come out to my family about three years ago. Haven’t been home since.“  
Ian thinks of his talk with Uncle Jamie and his heart threatens to burst with thankfulness for his family and friends and break for this boy lying next to him at the same time.  
Fergus talks again before Ian has come up with what to say and it is obvious he’s trying to change the subject. His tone is pretend-light and teasing when he asks: „When did you know?“  
Ian nearly chokes on his beer and feels his face turn bright-red. He coughs, trying to hide his blush from Fergus but it’s useless and well, at least now Fergus is laughing again.  
„Man!“, he says when he calms down, „that must be some kind of story! Come on, tell me, please. I promise, I won’t judge.“  
It’s something in Fergus’ tone maybe or the glint in his eyes, Ian isn’t sure but he starts telling the story despite himself.  
He tells this virtual stranger how, just about a year ago, he walked into Lallybroch’s barn to get some tool his father had sent him for and how he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard them.  
Willie, who helps out on the farm occasionally and Maggie, his big sister. They were preoccupied enough not to notice him and his first instinct was to turn around right away, his cheeks flaming and his mind racing. Then his eye caught on Willie’s naked butt and he couldn’t help himself. He ducked behind the tractor’s wheel, watching them intently. Maggie was mostly hidden from view and it was easy to pretend that he wasn’t watching his own sister having sex because he _wasn’t_. All he could see were Willie’s shoulderblades moving, the small rivulets of sweat running down his back, the taut muscles of his butt. All he could hear was Willie’s heavy breathing, his quiet gasps and occasional groans.  
„I ran out and hid in my room when I realized how painfully hard I was“, Ian tapers off and shrugs, not able to meet Fergus’ eyes, hormones racing from the memory as much as Fergus’ closeness.  
„I was pretty fucking sure my sister had nothing to do with that boner so I had to admit to myself that I was probably gay then“, he finishes his story and grins, the absurdity of the situation sinking in.  
Fergus laughs next to him and then Ian feels a hand squeezing his own, mirroring his earlier gesture and he finally feels brave enough to face the brown-haired lad again.  
„ _Eh ben_ , that story did not disappoint“, Fergus chuckles. „Bit of a voyeur, are you?“  
„Hey, ye said ye wouldn’t judge!“, Ian protests but he can’t help falling in with Fergus’ chuckle. They fall silent then but Fergus doesn’t remove his hand and Ian lies back, content to just watch the stars and feel the warmth of the others hand on his.  
It feels glorious and reckless but safe at the same time and Ian marvels at how many risks he’s taken these past two days and how much it has paid off. Who’d have thought all it takes for a boy to hold your hand is telling an embarrassing story.  
„Come visit me tomorrow at the circus, will you?“, Fergus asks after a while. „There’s something I wanna show you.“  
Ian squeezes his hand in answer, his manic heartbeat preventing him for a long second from answering. When Fergus gets up and starts harassing Andriw into going home he finally manages to whisper: „I will.“  
If Marsali notices his starstruck look she doesn’t comment the whole way home, the quiet of the night only interrupted by her occasional sigh and Ian doesn’t mind one bit, happily lost in his thoughts as he is.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s mid-morning when Ian arrives at the circus field the next day. The sun is still hanging low in the sky and he has to shield his eyes from its strong glare in order to be able to look for Fergus.   
As circuses go, mornings are a slow time. There’s not a trace of the festive, glittery bustling of the late afternoons and evenings, instead a few tired faces here and there, the occasional dog sitting in the shade in front of a trailer and just the faintest sound of music coming from the big tent.  
Ian steers toward it, his body recognizing it before his mind realizes where he knows it from; he’s heard this before, his muscles automatically tense, completing the memory and then his brain catches up. This is the music that accompanies Fergus’ tight rope performance.   
Ian feels himself starting to smile and a small corner of his brain calls him out for being the biggest sap ever but he doesn’t really care. The rest of his thoughts are already with Fergus, equally divided between remembering every tiny detail about him (the way he moves, the firelight catching in his wavy brown hair, his laugh, the way his hand felt holding Ian’s...) and wondering why he’s asked for Ian to come here today.  
When he reaches the entryway of the big tent, Ian runs into Geneva.  
„Oh. It’s you“, she quips, looking him over critically.  
Ian hates himself for blushing and he channels that anger into answering her in a firm, no-nonsense voice.  
„I’m here for Fergus. Is he in there?“  
Geneva lifts an eyebrow, starts smirking, then turns on her heel and motions for Ian to follow her.   
They round the corner, coming in between the rows of seats and there he is, Fergus, up on the tight rope, nose scrunched up in concentration, his body a single arc of well-portioned, forceful tension.  
Geneva calls out to him over the music when they approach the ring.   
„Fergus! Loverboy’s here for you!“

Later, Ian’s pretty sure that the world stopped for a second and then went on turning in time with his heart beating – it’s incredibly cheesy and yet all those Hollywood films must have been on to something.  
It truly feels like a movie moment in retrospect, although Ian would’ve preferred to live through nearly any other generic scene.  
It also plays like a movie in his mind when he recounts it to his aunt; Geneva calling out, Fergus startling, his eyes locking with Ian’s for the briefest moment before he’s falling.  
He leaves out how embarrassingly fast he ran and jumped into the ring, heart racing, the word „no“ a endless loop in his head interrupted only by the occasional gaelic profanity.  
He leaves out how incredibly relieved he felt, when Fergus looked at him, eyes clear, seemingly okay except for the right ankle he was gripping tight.  
He leaves out how that reckless, brazen, infuriating French lad greeted him with a breathy „ _Bonjour_ , Loverboy“ and how his fingers traced little patterns on Ian’s supporting shoulder the whole way back to his trailer.  
It doesn’t matter much though because while Aunt Claire has a glass face herself, she’s always managed to see right through Ian way too easily, so she gives him a knowing smile and turns, rummaging in her medical bag and asking Fergus the occasional question.  
It takes her about five minutes of tentative observation then she offers them her diagnosis.  
„Well, there’s not much I can do. It’s just a little sprain, you got lucky there, lad. I’ll leave you some painkillers but no tight rope for at the very least the next two days! Rest that foot and maybe cool it a little for now. Since your muscles are quite trained, you can start trying to move it a little when the pain ebbs out but don’t go too fast.“  
Fergus’ face falls listening to her speech and when Aunt Claire notices, her tone gets a little gentler but the message stays clear. „I’m sorry“, she adds finally, squeezing his shoulder lightly. „But if you’re not careful now, this might become a bigger issue.“  
Fergus nods and sighs in defeat while Claire packs up her medical equipment and places a box of painkillers on his bedside table.  
„I’m going to get ye something to cool that“, Ian says softly and follows his aunt out of the trailer.   
They walk in companionable silence toward the improvised group kitchen by the edge of the field. Just before they reach it, Claire asks: „So. This is him?“  
„Uncle Jamie told you?!“, Ian looks at her incredulously.  
She tilts her head to the side and shrugs, smiling apologetically: „We don’t keep secrets from eachother, don’t blame him.“  
And Ian doesn’t really, he’s honestly more relieved than anything. One less person to tell.  
„Yeah, that’s him“, he answers her earlier question instead, mirroring her shrug.  
„Well, I think I can see the attraction“, Claire grins and before Ian can run away and hide from her, she hugs him tight.  
„We just want you to be happy. Take care, alright?“, she says and kisses his cheek.   
Ian forgets why he’s even out there for a bit, stunned, watching his aunt wave to him and climb her bike. What a marvelous family he has.

Fergus is a cranky patient. He tries to sneak out of bed several times until Ian just shoves him farther towards the wall of the trailer and plops down next to him.  
„There. Now ye’ll have to climb over me if ye wanna get out of bed“, he states, satisfied with himself.  
Fergus smirks at him. „That doesn’t sound half as bad to me as you’ve intended, Loverboy.“  
He’s suddenly very aware of how close they are, lying next to eachother on the small trailer bed and he feels his face burn with the evidence of his nerves yet again.  
„Don’t call me that“, he quips, deflecting.  
„Don’t call you what? Loverboy?“, Fergus teases, his hand now tracing up and down Ian’s arm in a featherlight touch.  
„Ye’re hopped up on painkillers.“   
Ian’s eyes follow Fergus’ fingers, still tracing, making his sking break out in goose bumps, the hair on it standing up as if electrified.  
„Maybe“, Fergus answers, tone light but he doesn’t stop moving his hand until Ian can’t take it anymore.  
His own hand moves to hold Fergus’ in place and he stills, his eyes daring, questioning when Ian lifts his head to look at him.  
„Fergus.“  
It’s barely audible but his hoarse voice rings in Ian’s ears, urging him on.  
„ _Oui, cheri?_ “  
And the French words paired with the nervous fire burning in Fergus’ eyes are enough of a push, no, a pull really, pulling Ian in and making him brave. Brave enough to reach for the other’s neck, hand tangled in that wavy hair and pull back, pull him closer, pull him in for a kiss.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys, i'm not sure about this ending AT ALL but i really needed to finish this so i hope y'all enjoy!  
> also this is dedicated to @muykonos - thank you for being one of my most faithful readers and CONGRATULATIONS ON GETTING HITCHED!!!

The next few days pass in a hazy flurry. Uncle Jamie and Ian senior make him help with cutting the grass and later bringing in the hay which takes up a lot of Ian’s time and energy but can’t occupy his thoughts. His thoughts, they’re filled with Fergus; his accent, his laugh. His soft, brown hair and shining eyes. The way his skin feels under Ian’s palm. The way his lips move against Ian’s.  
He manages to squeeze in short visits everyday but they’re both bone tired in the early evenings, Ian from helping on the farm, Fergus from the meds and his first tentative attempts at getting back to training.  
They lie next to eachother on the bed in Fergus’ trailer, watching the ceiling and telling silly stories, fingers intertwined, thumbs painting slow patterns on the back of their hands.  
Ian feels bold and strong and safe in that trailer in a way he never has before. He finally feels _right_ , like he fits in this life now.  
He even finds the courage to tell his mother and father and when he recounts it to Fergus the next day, they laugh about Jenny’s lecture on safe sex together.  
„ _Elle a raison, donc_ , your mom. I hope you’re taking her advice“, Fergus smirks at Ian, knowing full well he’s provoking a fierce blush and softly tracing it with his index finger.  
„I... I’ve actually never... had sex“, Ian admits, squirming.  
Fergus props himself up on his elbow and steals a kiss then, soft and lingering. He smiles at Ian and it’s free of judgement, free of mocking, a smile Ian can’t help returning.  
„Don’t worry, Loverboy, you’ll be fine“, Fergus says. „All it really takes is telling them they’re beautiful and offering them a drink. And then, the _pièce de résistance._ “  
„And what would that be?“, Ian grins.  
„Repeat the first two steps as many times as it takes“, comes the immediate answer from his right and they’re both laughing.  
Later, Ian manages to work up the courage to ask.  
„Tell me about yer first time, will ye?“  
Fergus rolls on his stomach and looks out the little window on the side of the trailer and the glint in his eyes promises a good story. He turns to look at Ian then, smirking.  
„Sure you’re up for it?“  
Ian just raises his eyebrows and waits for the other to continue.  
„I was fifteen and it was right before I left Paris. A _ménage à trois_.“  
„Oh“, Ian breathes, the small bits of French he remembers from school supplying his brain with instant visuals.  
„ _Oh oui_ , it was a rather religious experience“, Fergus murmurs, dipping his head and pressing a soft kiss to Ian’s neck.  
That night, Ian sleeps restlessly, his dreams filled with images of a naked Fergus, caressed by faceless strangers, his waking moments filled with memories of their heated kisses.

The bonfire is still burning high when Ian settles down in the dried grass with a sigh. It’s the first time in days he’s managed to come here, the hay finally brought in and Fergus back to regular training, his promise to step by later a warm, comfortable weight sitting deep in Ian’s stomach.  
He nearly dozes off listening to Marsali telling her family story, the twists (Uncle Jamie) and turns (Auntie Claire) producing giggles and gasps all around.  
The hand is warm on his shoulder, a thumb just slightly stroking the tender spot beneath his ear, stray locks tickling his cheek when Fergus whispers: „You look beautiful, Loverboy.“  
Ian is instantly awake again, the words like a touch igniting synapses all over his body.  
„Do you care for a drink?“, Fergus adds, plopping down next to him with a cheeky grin on his face, handing him an open bottle of red wine.  
„I see yer trying to seduce me“, Ian smirks at him with a non-chalance he altogether doesn’t feel and takes a swig of wine, hoping for a bit of liquid courage.  
„Is it working?“  
Fergus’ hand is on his knee now, slowly stroking up and down, wandering a little higher up his tigh with each stroke.  
„I thought the _pièce de résistance_ was repetition“, Ian breathes, his eyes trained on Fergus’ slender fingers, bright against his dark shorts.  
He gets a low chuckle for an answer, then Fergus grabs the bottle back, drinks and slowly licks his lips, gaze intensely trained on Ian the entire time.  
„More?“, he finally asks and offers him the bottle again, one eyebrow suggestively raised.  
„Please“, Ian answers, his raspy voice betraying the light-hearted banter.  
He has conflicted feelings about this night. Diah, he savours that hand on his tigh, he lives for Fergus’ smoldering gazes, the whispered teases, the featherlight touches to his arms, his face. He’s buzzing with excitement, arousal, alcohol... The warm, earthy wine on his tongue makes him want to taste it on the other’s. He enjoys the thrill of doing this under the nose of the others, of not caring about their reactions. He loves how, despite the public place, this is still between them, this is still so very intimate and secret, he’s not even sure he grasps it all himself.  
On the other hand he doesn’t know how much more of it all he can take. He’s still a hormonal teenager after all and the images that sexy, accented voice calls forth with even the most innocent of sentences haunt him. The hand on his tigh makes him ache for more, the smoldering gazes make him want to bury his hands in Fergus’ hair and kiss him until he can’t keep his eyes open.  
He startles when Marsali grabs his arm and drags him up, he’s been so lost in their little world.  
„I need ye to come home wi’ me“, she grits out and one look into her face tells him all he needs to know. He shoots Fergus an apologetic look and stumbles after her as she’s basically running ahead over the fields.  
„M! Marsali! Marsali, stop!“, he calls when they’re out of earshot from the others and when she finally does and he realizes that she’s crying now, he goes and hugs her tightly to his chest, swaying them softly, murmuring senseless little nothings until she calms down a bit.  
„What’s wrong, _mo ghraidh_?“, he asks when they fall into a slow trot again and her answering laugh is bitter and shrill.  
„Did ye ken that tomorrow’s their last day here? They’re leaving!“  
„What?!“ He’s heard it right and he knows it but he doesn’t want to understand it.  
„YES! They’re doing one more show and then they’re gone. And that _blaigeard_ dares to tell me about the lass waiting for him the next town over.“ She’s furious now and he’s a tiny bit relieved in his shock. Fury suits her better, it brings back the Marsali he knows, the strong, fierce lass he loves.  
They trash Andriw the whole way home and Ian pours his heart and soul into it, makes it his highest goal to see Marsali laugh again. He doesn’t want to think about the circus leaving the next day, he wants to delay these thoughts as much as possible. They’re gonna serve him with a another sleepless night anyways, so he gives himself a last little reprieve in cheering up his friend.

He makes himself wait to go to the circus the next day. He knows he’s pacing but he can’t help it, finally opting for a run around the Lallybroch grounds. He rounds the entire estate twice and then just keeps on running, the wind in his ears silencing his deafening thoughts at least a little. He’s not surprised when he finds himself at Fergus’ trailer.  
From the music wafting over on the breeze he knows that the show is running and he tries to catch his breath.  
He’s got a few moments. And he desperately needs them because really, what’s his gameplan here? What does he even want from Fergus? What is this thing they started and does it have any chance to survive a goodbye? He doesn’t find even the sliver of an answer to any of the questions haunting him before his breath catches in his throat and he freezes because there he is, there’s Fergus in his costume of leather tights and a plain white t-shirt, sweaty from the show, his hair in a messy bun.  
„Ian“, he rasps out and before Ian can say a word he’s pressed against the trailer’s wall and there’s Fergus _everywhere_ – but most of all there’s Fergus kissing him and God, he’s forgotten how much he needed this, how much he’s been waiting for it.  
His body responds right away, his mouth opening to Fergus’ probing tongue, his skin burning, his knees threatening to give out on him. He lets his hands tangle in Fergus’ locks the way he wanted to forever and a small part of his brain tells him to stop this madness, that anyone could walk in on them, that the half-shadow between the rows of trailers isn’t enough of a cover but he truly couldn’t care less in that moment and when Fergus bucks his hips against Ian’s even that little nagging voice shuts up and there’s nothing but static and pure sensation in his thoughts.  
„ _Mon Dieu_ “, Fergus breathes when they break apart for air and then he sucks on Ian’s throat, his hands roaming, touching everywhere at once.  
„You have no idea what you do to me“, he murmurs against Ian’s skin and moves his hips again and Ian knows he’s grinding back against him but he thinks he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.  
„I... have some idea“, he answers, breathless, one hand boldly venturing beneath Fergus’ shirt. He flicks a finger softly over Fergus’ nipple and the sound he’s rewarded with nearly makes him come in his pants right then and there.  
„Come on.“ Fergus’ tone is urgent and he takes Ian by the hand and basically shoves through the door of the trailer, pushing him right back against it as soon as it closes behind them. His mouth is back on Ian’s then and that’s so distracting, it takes Ian a moment to realize that Fergus’ hands are opening his pants.  
„ _Dhia_ , you’re going to be the death of me“, he groans out when Fergus reaches inside and takes him in hand with a firm pressure.  
„I’m aiming for _la petite mort_ “, Fergus smirks at him breathing heavily and when he starts moving his hand Ian is lost to words.

„I’m sorry I didn’t tell you“, Fergus says later, when they’re lying side to side on his bed again and their breathing’s starting to come back to a natural rhythm.  
Ian doesn’t know what to answer so he just shrugs.  
„I should’ve kent anyways.“  
When he leaves because Fergus has to help take down the tent they share a last lingering kiss and Fergus whispers: „I hope you liked my parting gift. Something to remember me by until we meet again."


End file.
